Position of Power
by TheMadKatter13
Summary: Position had nothing to do with power, and power had everything to do with trust. CU Top Arthur / Bottom Merlin.


**I did not expect this to be my first Merthur posted.**

 **Cross-posted from AO3 same-day.**

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'On top.' Two simple words, and yet, they evoke an image of power, of domination.

'On bottom.' Two simple words, and yet, they evoke an image of subservience, of choicelessness.

With the way Merlin pinned Arthur to the couch with his weight, with all the magic of the earth at his fingertips, one might imagine Merlin to be in control. One would be wrong.

The most powerful sorcerer to have ever lived might have been astride the lap of a mere mortal king, but it was to this king - _his king_ \- that he'd given himself to: his unwavering loyalty and servitude, his life, his body.

Arthur looked down to where they were connected, entranced by the sight of his cock being engulfed repeatedly by Merlin's body. The fingers on his shoulders, the ones helping Merlin ride his king, restricted for a moment, more a twitch than anything, and Arthur ignored the silent plea. Twin nipples were right in front of him and he would not be denied his please.

He leaned forward, sliding his tongue across the peaked bud before gently suckling at it and carefully resting his teeth against it. Above his head, Merlin whimpered, a guttural sound from the throat, and his fingers twitched again. Arthur's teeth scraped against the sensitive skin when he pulled off, and then he did the same thing to the other nipple, pleased when it drew the same reaction.

The king didn't bother to go back and forth between the two, more than satisfied by the temporary pleasure he would have provided his lover, the sensations turned torturous by their lack of longevity. Instead, he relaxed against the back of the couch, Merlin inevitably following. The sound that the sorcerer made next was a delightful mix of 'wrecked' and 'euphoric' as he started to lift and drop himself like he was on the back of a galloping horse.

Arthur smiled at his lover's success at finding that spot within that would provide him the most pleasure and ran his palms up Merlin's shaking thighs to cup his arse. He didn't help, wouldn't, but he did hold the plump cheeks further apart, eliciting that same sound a second time. The hands at his shoulders tightened and then didn't loosen again. Above his head, where Arthur hadn't looked the entire hour Merlin had been trying to reach climax and foiled each time by the king's tight grip around the base of his cock, soft pants stirred his hair.

"Ahr- Ahr- Ahr-" Merlin gasped, his overworked throat trying and failing to form the sounds of Arthur's name; a plea. Well, Arthur had never had an easy time saying no to Merlin, even long before Merlin's magic had been revealed, even when Merlin had been a servant loved and longed for from afar. For the first time since their game had begun, he tipped his head back.

The expression on Merlin's red, slack face was nothing short of relieved and pleased. Not smug, no, _pleased_ , in a content sort of way. The way it lit up his eyes and tugged at the corners of his mouth rather reminded Arthur of when he visited his hounds after not seeing them for a few days, the excited way they greeted him as if they were honored by his mere presence. Which is really how Merlin should feel all the time. If only Arthur was any other king; if only Merlin were any other servant.

Instead, he only seemed to experience that same elation during their time of love-making, when Arthur would test to see how long Merlin could survive on his cock without seeing Arthur's face. It was a heady feeling, like drinking too much strong wine too fast, knowing that the most powerful person alive felt _graced_ by Arthur's eyes, enough so that Arthur had to tighten his fingers at the base of Merlin's cock and his own to prevent their orgasms for the fourth time. Even more so knowing that that most powerful being alive willing subjected themselves to such a treatment, all in the name of faith and love and loyalty.

"I think you have one more in you, Merlin," Arthur whispered into the heated air between them. There was no one else nearby, and his doors were locked to anyone seeking to barge in, but it seemed oddly sacrilegious to speak any louder. Especially as he fought to let the simmer of his own climax cool.

Merlin's head wavered slightly to one side, then to the other, then back again: a denial. A quiet whine seemed to drag itself from the younger man's throat, like a wind whistling through the castle's stones. Arthur nodded, as if in agreement.

"I know. You're practically shaking to pieces in my lap, your legs-" He let go of Merlin's arse to smooth his palms back down the shaking thighs, the muscles far past their limits. "-can barely hold you any longer. But you've been so perfect so far, Merlin, and I know you can do it."

Though magic isn't allowed during their play time, for a moment, Merlin seemed to lose himself. His eyes flashed gold for a second and the bed behind him rattled against the stones before settling again, and Arthur's erection throbbed within his grip at the show of such magnificent restraint snapping, if only temporarily.

For some reason, compliments, reassurances, and endorsements when his sorcerer is at his breaking point always seem to make his control waver. It's a game Arthur plays with himself, to draw Merlin to the edge and see if he can get him to orgasm on nothing more than whatever stimulation his cock can provide with the slimmer man's movements and a compliment. He's only won seven times - about once a month since they've been together. Still, it's an achievement worth remembering.

Merlin's eyes fluttered shut and his chin dipped in a nod before he took a deep breath. As soon as Arthur released the both of them, Merlin began rocking himself over and around Arthur again.

Every time Arthur's cock disappeared into the silken heat, Merlin would shudder and his walls would clamp down at the nudge of where he was so oversensitive. Already reclined against the back, Arthur let loose the tension in his muscles and spread his legs wider, anything to stave off the heat of his own release until he'd drawn Merlin one last time. The movement surprised his lover into slipping just a little further onto his king's cock, and for the first time, Merlin paused, his eyelids lowered and fluttering, like he was fighting to open them.

When he failed to move after a moment, Arthur murmured a warning: " _Mer_ lin."

That same high whine as before whispered through the air, and then Merlin was pushing himself back up, shaking so badly that even his fingertips trembled against Arthur's shoulder blades. He rewarded his sorcerer with a sweep of the callouses on his own fingertips against a ribcage that was still bony, even after all of Merlin's years in his service. The man jolted, but managed to retain his rhythm, and Arthur smiled up at him, pleased.

Dark blue eyes landed on his before flitting down to his smile, and suddenly Merlin's body went rigid in his lap, the sorcerer enfolding Arthur's neck in a death grip as fingernails dug marks into the skin of his back. Liquid that was most definitely not sweat dripped against his abdomen and Arthur sighed in mock annoyance, even though his lover couldn't hear him. He planted his feet against the cold stone, grabbed a handful of arse in each hand, and began fucking up, chasing his own orgasm. Merlin's grip tightened and come continued to drip seemingly endlessly against his stomach as each thrust forced his lover's orgasm to prolong.

By the time his own climax finally ripped through him, the sensation made more violent by the delay, Merlin was shaking so hard in his grip that it felt like he would rattle right out of Arthur's lap. His embrace was tighter than a corset and the indents of his fingernails were surely deep enough to draw blood. He continued to shudder even after Arthur himself stilled, jolting every few seconds as if struck, come pulsing from the tip of his cock with every beat of his heart. The king felt like a lecher just watching it, even as they sight fascinated him, even as it struck him how vulnerable Merlin was right now and how much the younger man trusted him, even as it occurred to him once again exactly how much control he had over such a powerful being.

His father would have told him a smart king uses any and all tools and weapons available to him, and that he should use them to protect the whole no matter the impact it may have on an individual. Uther may have been a good king, ruthless, but he underestimated the power of loyalty. Merlin had given Arthur his trust and his love, had given him power over himself, and he trusted Arthur not to take advantage of that. It was that trust, that knowledge that Merlin would do whatever Arthur asked of him, that made Arthur the post powerful person in the world. And it had nothing to do with who was on top.

FINIS

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 **Well, I set out to jot down a small idea I had during my lunch and I ended up writing the whole thing between work duties? Go figure. Reblog the thing (themadkatter13fanfiction tumblr, post/** **133167945133** **). Tschüß.**


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